


First Dates Can Be Awkward

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Sam Campbell AU [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Professor Sam, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Campbell and the reader have their first real date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Dates Can Be Awkward

“What are you wearing?” Charlie’s voice was small and reedy coming from the speaker of your phone.

“A dress,” you replied, swiping a bit of mascara over your lashes. “Why?”

“Just curious,” she answered. “Where are you guys going?”

“Dinner,” you said. “Then there’s a play down in the art district he wanted to see. It’s the last night, I guess. It sounds fun though.”

“Oooh, that’s sounds nice,” Charlie laughed. “Cultural and stuff.”

“Cut it out,” you giggled. You took one last look in the mirror, then grabbed your phone, jacket and purse, setting them beside you on the loveseat. “I’m already nervous, I don’t want to worry about what’s happening later.”

“Why are you nervous?” Charlie asked. You could hear the sound of glasses clinking in the background. She’d been nice enough to cover your shift so you could go out with Sam. “The two of you have already...well...you know. This should be nothing.”

“That was sex,” you explained.

“Amazing sex according to you,” Charlie interrupted.

“Yes, Charlie, amazing sex,” you sighed. “But this is different. First dates can be so, I don’t know...awkward, even if you know the person. This is getting to know each other, talking, carrying on a conversation, hoping he likes me enough to want to see me again. It’s nerve wracking. What if we find out the only thing we have in common is that we have amazing sex?”

“Well, you’ve been down that road with Michael and you know how well that went,” Charlie replied.

“Yeah, it was a disaster,” you mumbled.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your conversation. “I gotta go, Charlie. He’s here.”

“Oh my God,” Charlie squealed. “Call me as soon as you get home.”

“Okay,” you laughed, the doorbell ringing again. “I promise!” You disconnected the call and shoved your phone into your purse, then hurried to the door.

You glanced through the peephole. Sam was leaning against the wall across from your door, one hand shoved in the pocket of a pair of black dress pants. He was wearing a hunter green v-neck sweater, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows. His jacket was hanging from his free hand, his glasses on. His long brown hair was mussed like he’d been running his hand through it. You still weren’t sure how someone so smart and sexy was interested in you. After tonight, he might not be anymore.

“Hi,” you smiled as you pulled open the door.

“Hello,” he returned the smile. “You ready?”

“I am,” you said, pulling the door closed behind you and locking it.

Sam took your jacket from you and helped you put it on,then a pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, a blush coloring them red. You weren’t accustomed to this kind of attention.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled. “Let’s go show you off to the world.” He took your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours and leading you down the hallway.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so good about yourself. And it was all thanks to Sam Campbell.

* * *

Dinner was perfect, the food was wonderful and the company even better. Your worries that you and Sam would have nothing in common were fruitless and unnecessary. Sam was sweet and easy to talk to, smart, but not condescending, and a perfect gentleman all night. He pulled your chair out for you, ordered your food for you after you told him what you wanted, and generously tipped your waiter, a plus in your eyes. He held the door at the restaurant, he even opened your car door for you.

The play was even more fun than you’d thought it would be. It was filled with songs from the 80’s and it was ridiculous and cute and funny all at the same time. Your stomach hurt from laughing by the time it was over. To your surprise, the two of you were able to go backstage afterwards; apparently several of Sam’s former students were in the show and had invited him to the cast party after the show.

The after party was crazy, crowded with at least a hundred people shoved into the backstage area and spilling onto the stage. Sam kept you close, your hand enclosed in his, taking you around the room introducing you to all the people he knew. Which seemed to be just about everyone.

Despite having Sam right next to you, you felt awkward and uncomfortable, especially since you didn’t know anyone. You recognized quite a few people, having seen them coming and going from the bar, but you certainly didn’t know anyone well enough to consider them a friend. You stayed close to Sam, his presence calming you.

A huge group of his students had just wandered away after cornering the two of you, when yet another voice called Sam’s name. You turned with him to see a pretty brunette making her way through the crowd.

“Cara,” he said and for the first time since entering the party, he released your hand. He stepped slightly in front of you, turning toward the brown haired woman.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she said. “I thought -”

“That I would come,” Sam interrupted. “No. I had a lot of these kids in my classes, I’m not going to miss a chance to see them doing something they love.” He stepped to the side and took hold of your elbow. “Cara, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Cara Roberts.”

“ _Doctor_ Cara Roberts,” she corrected, reaching to shake your hand. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing.” She shot a glance at Sam. “You’re not taking dating advice from Dean are you, Sam? Dating a student?” She laughed darkly. “I guess after our break up anything goes, huh?”

Though Sam had never mentioned her by name, you knew this was _her_ , the fiancee. You grabbed Cara’s hand, shaking it twice and releasing it. Sam was gripping your elbow tight and you could feel his entire body shaking. You chanced a look at him, but his face was unreadable. You felt the need to diffuse the situation and quickly. “I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken,” you said. “Sam and I met at the bar I own.”

“I’m sorry?” Cara said. “Did you say you own a bar?”

You took a deep breath and promised yourself you wouldn’t let this woman get under your skin. It seemed clear that she felt like she had something to prove. You weren’t going to allow her use you to her advantage, nor were you going to allow her to continue to upset Sam. You reached across yourself and tangled your fingers with Sam’s, leaning against him not only so he could support you but so you could support him.

“Yeah, the one right off campus,” you explained. “Time Out? That’s mine. My dad left it to me when he and my mom moved to Florida. That’s where Sam and I met.” You squeezed Sam’s fingers as he slowly loosened the grip on your arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got someplace better to be.” You gave a gentle tug on Sam’s hand and, to your surprise, he willingly followed you.

Sam put one hand on your waist, guiding you toward a side door. You passed several people, pausing just long enough for him to say his goodbyes and for Sam to scoop up your coats. The door opened on the side of the building opposite the parking lot, a huge park sprawling out on the other side of the sidewalk. That was the direction Sam led you, rather than around the building to where he had parked his car. He helped you put your coat on, then slipped on his own.

“Sam, where are we going?” you said as you followed him into the park.

“I thought we could go for a walk,” he replied.

“Okay,” you shrugged, praying you didn’t freeze to death. The winter snow hadn’t hit yet, but it was definitely cold. You tried to burrow into your jacket, drawing a laugh from Sam. He threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you tight against his side. God, he was warm.

“I guess I owe you an explanation,” he said after you’d been walking for a few minutes.

“Was that her?” you asked.

“My fiancee?” Sam said. “Yes. That was Cara. I didn’t realize she would be there. I haven’t seen her since she returned the ring. I wasn’t expecting that.” He sighed deeply.

You cringed at the lack of past tense when he referred to his former fiancee. Maybe dating a guy who had recently ended a serious relationship wasn’t such a great idea. You were about to say as much, when Sam started talking again.

“I think we’ve been over for a lot longer than I realized,” he continued. “We were kind of going through the motions, stuck, not going forward at all. We hadn’t even set a date for the wedding. She never wanted to talk about it and I never pushed. I think we were at a point that if she hadn’t broke things off, I eventually would have.”

“Do you still love her?” you murmured. You didn’t want to ask the question, but you had to know the answer, had to know what you were getting into, had to know if you should walk away while you still could.

Sam stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned you to look at him. “I’m going to be completely honest with you, Y/N,” he answered. “I’m not sure. We were together a long time and I loved her. I can’t just turn that off. But I don’t want to be with her anymore. I do know that.” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “And I like you. A lot. I’d like to spend more time with you.” He leaned down and brushed a quick kiss across your lips. “If you’re okay with that.”

You wanted to run, to end this before it began, to walk away before your heart was broken. You’d had enough pain to last a lifetime, you didn’t want anymore. But Sam smiled, soft, sweet, absolutely beautiful. You found yourself lost in his hazel eyes. Instead of turning and walking away, you nodded, raised yourself up on the tips of your toes and kissed him.

He returned the kiss, his hands tangling in your hair, cupping the sides of your face, sending a shiver racing through you.

“You’re cold,” he said. “Let’s head back.” He took your hand, turned on his heel and made his way back across the park to his car. His black Charger was parked in the corner of the lot, near the theater. He opened the door for you, not releasing your hand until you were seated in the car. He slammed the door and hurried around the front of the car. Once he was inside, he started the car and turned on the heat.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “We should have come back to the car sooner.” He reached over and put a hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. Despite the fact that the two of you had just come in from the cold, his hand was warm.

You moved toward him, as close as you could get despite the center console in your way, raising your chin, silent encouragement for him to kiss you. He was happy to oblige, angling his large body in the small space so he could draw you closer, his lips finding yours, his tongue delving into your mouth, deepening the kiss immediately.

Sam slid his hand up your leg, beneath your skirt, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. The feel of his hand on your skin, the fingers slightly rough and calloused, gently caressing your inner thigh was causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach. You tried to move closer to him, but the car wasn’t made for front seat make-out sessions. You sighed in frustration as he pulled away.

“Back to your place?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you replied. You sat back in your seat and yanked your seat belt into place, while Sam shifted awkwardly in his seat. You hid your smile behind your hand as he finally put the car in drive and left the parking lot. He kept his hand on your leg, squeezing it every now and then as he calmly drove through the streets back to your apartment.

The drive back to your place took a frustratingly long time. You fiddled with the radio, finally settling on a classic rock station. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head as Metallica blared from the speakers.

“What’s wrong?” you inquired.

“My best friend, Dean, he loves classic rock,” he laughed. “Makes me listen to it all the time.”

You talked about his friendship with Dean for the remainder of the drive back to your apartment. You wanted to ask him what Cara had meant about Dean dating a student, but you weren’t sure he was ready to reveal a secret like that to you. Especially a secret that probably wasn’t his to tell.

Sam drove around the block a couple of times before he finally found a parking spot down the block from your apartment. He helped you from the car and followed you to your building, his fingers intertwined with yours. He kept his hand on your waist as you made your way up the stairs; held the door open for you when you reached your floor and took your keys from you to unlock your door.

“Would you like some coffee?” you asked as you kicked off your heels and hung up your jacket.

“Sounds great,” he nodded, pushing the door closed. He followed you into the kitchen, dropping his jacket on the back of one of the two chairs at your old oak table. He took a seat, watching as you put water in the kettle to boil for tea and started a cup of coffee in your Keurig. You were pulling two cups from the cupboard when you felt a hand on your waist and one in your hair, pushing it away from neck. Warm lips slid over your shoulders, up your neck and to your ear.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered.

You planted your hands flat on the countertop and closed your eyes. Sam’s body was pressed against yours; you could feel every breath he took, feel the heat emanating from him. You took a deep breath, the scent of sandalwood and old books surrounding you.

“For what?” you asked, your voice shaky.

“I’m sorry things got weird,” he replied. “Everything was perfect and then -”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you murmured.

“I want to.” The tone of his voice left no room for argument. He continued nibbling at your neck as he slowly moved his hand up your side to your breast, cupping it in his large hand, kneading it, caressing it through the soft material of your dress. With his other hand he grabbed the edge of your skirt and pulled it up, his fingers trailing up your thigh, stopping just at the edge of your underwear. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly.

“N...n...no,” you shook your head. “Please don’t.”

Sam hooked his fingers in the top of your panties and pulled them down, sliding them easily down your legs. Once they were off, he dragged his fingers back up your leg, agonizingly slow, your skin tingling at his touch. He let them drift lazily over the lips of your pussy, carefully, tenderly, easing them open. He caressed them, brushing his thumb over your clit over and over, until you were obscenely gyrating against his hands and fingers. You fell back against him, your knees going weak as he slid his middle finger inside you, pumping it slowly in and out.

“Sam,” you moaned. “Please, Sam -”

He released you, picked you with one arm and set you on the edge of the kitchen table. He dropped to his knees in front of you and pushed your skirt up, and then his head was between your legs and it was at that point that you forgot to breathe.

He lapped at your warm, wet center, tiny licks with the tip of his tongue, his hands under your skirt, tight on your waist. Your legs fell open and you tangled the fingers of one hand in Sam’s hair, allowing him to push himself closer, his tongue burrowing deeper and deeper inside you, his mouth covering you. You gasped as he rocked forward, sliding two fingers inside you alongside his tongue.

You were sprawled across your kitchen table, back arching off the table, Sam’s head between your legs, his tongue and fingers inside you, his nose squished against you, brushing against your clit. You were writhing under the overwhelming and intense pleasure, your hips bucking as he fucked you with his mouth.

You came in a sudden rush of heat, your fist slamming repeatedly on the table, Sam’s name a curse on your lips. He kept mouthing at you, lapping gently at the slick of your pussy, growling low in the back of his throat as he caressed your inner walls with the fingers still inside you. He stood up and in one swift move, he turned you around and leaned you over the table, pulling your skirt up around your waist. When you heard the sound of his belt loosening, your stomach clenched in anticipation. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the condom wrapper hit the floor, then seconds later, his cock was rubbing over your pussy, his hand in the center of your back as he eased himself inside you.

You pushed back, allowing him to fill you completely. Sam moaned, his arm sliding around your waist. He thrust into you, sliding his cock almost completely out of you before slamming back into you. You held onto the table, moaning and keening as Sam’s cock brushed over your sweet spot with every push and pull, your hair hanging in your face, the table hitting the wall with every one of Sam’s thrusts into you. Your walls clenched around him as another orgasm rocked through you, your entire body shuddering in ecstasy.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled. One had dropped to the table beside yours, grasping the end of it for leverage as he moved inside you, his body tensing as he slammed into you several more times. He let loose with another growl, his forehead pressed to the center of your back.

He pulled free and helped you stand upright. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you gently. “I keep doing that,” he sighed. “I can’t keep my hands off of you, can’t wait to touch you, to get inside you.” He shook his head. “That’s the second time I haven’t been able to control myself and get you someplace better than the edge of my desk or on your kitchen table. God, I’m sorry.” He dropped his eyes, focusing instead on straightening your dress and zipping his pants back up.

You cupped his face in yours, forcing him to look at you. “Sam, stop apologizing,” you ordered. “That was unbelievable. I had a chance to say no and I didn’t. And what you did…” You felt a blush flooding your cheeks. “That was...Jesus, Sam, the way you made me feel -” You swallowed, sure it was loud enough for the entire world to hear. “I...yeah...um…”

Sam wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You pressed your face to his chest and let yourself relax against him. He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“What do you say neither one of us apologizes anymore tonight?” Sam laughed. “Deal?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “On one condition?”

“Yeah? What’s that?” he asked.

“We go in the bedroom and you let me return the favor,” you replied.

“Deal,” he grinned. “Whatever you want.” He took your hand and let you lead him to the bedroom.

 


End file.
